A Smile On Her Face
by SomethingSillySherlock
Summary: Pan's love for Wendy Darling borders on obsession, slowly driving him insane as she ignores him. All he wants is to put a smile on her face- by force, if necessary- but Wendy will never smile for Peter Pan. (Darling Pan. Twisted one-sided romance.)
1. Prologue

A Smile On Her Face

The little girl walked serenely down the bustling path, nodding politely and giving neutral, tight-lipped smiles as passerby called out greetings. Though she was only an eleven-year-old peasant girl, she moved like a queen, with tiny, dainty steps worthy of a ballerina. Her blond ringlets were neatly pinned back, falling to the middle of her back in thick waves. Her eyes were cool and calm, the eyes of someone much older than her years.

Her name was Wendy Darling, and Peter Pan was in love with her.

Pan, being a sixteen-year-old boy, would never admit it, of course. But everyone in the village knew. They saw him watching her as she walked past him without so much as a glance. Pan stared at her intently, wishing for her to turn her head and acknowledge him. But she never did. Pan assumed that Wendy thought she was better than him.

Everyday it was the same. Peter Pan would hurry to finish his tasks as the blacksmith's apprentice, then he would rush out to the road, just in time to see Wendy walk past. But today... today was different.

Peter Pan was at the blacksmith's that evening, as usual. Glancing outside at the setting sun, bleeding crimson light, he knew it was time. In fact, he was running later than usual. If Pan wanted to see Wendy, he would have to hurry. Carelessly dropping a red-hot sword into a barrel of stagnant rainwater, Pan ignored the vicious hiss of steam that billowed from it as he quickly tossed the blacksmith's hammer onto a nearby table. Pan frantically rubbed a spot of grease out of his tunic. He smoothed back his hair, sighing heavily. Then he checked his reflection in the surface of the rainwater in the barrel. Decent. Not good, but decent. His cheeks were flushed from the heat of the blacksmith's forge, and his green eyes danced with nervous anticipation. This was what he lived for everyday. This was how he managed to put up with the constant dullness of a blacksmith's life. All the hours he spent in front of the hot coals, Pan thought of Wendy and the image of her delightful smile carried him through the day. It was what he loved most about her. That smile... it was infectious, contagious, a taste of sweetness that exploded in Pan's mind and dominated his thoughts. It was all he wanted, to see Wendy Darling smile. To put a smile on her face.

Calling a swift farewell to the blacksmith, who grunted good-naturedly in reply, Pan dashed out of the unbearably hot shop and down the path on the hill, towards the village The blacksmith's shop was set way from the village, but only by a half mile or so. Soon Pan was sprinting into the village, a wild grin on his face as he relished the speed. The other villagers glanced at him, amused. They knew he was here to see his darling Wendy, the girl who always was ignoring him. Pan didn't even notice their glances. He slowed to a stand-still just as Wendy walked past, dressed in a lacy white gown, a basket full of warm bread clutched in her thin hands. The light of the setting sun gleamed on her golden curls, and Pan watched the younger girl with hopeless longing.

She held her chin high, looking straight ahead, not even seeming to notice as Pan stared after her like a lost puppy. Actually, unbeknownst to Pan, Wendy did notice Pan. She noticed him every day as he waited for her to look at him, to smile for him. In fact, Wendy would never tell, but she was in love with Pan, too. But she also had a darker secret. She was afraid of Pan, and she didn't know why. His constant attention alarmed her more she would ever admit. It seemed too fierce to her, too obsessive, and it scared her.

So Wendy ignored the boy as she always did, walking past him without a sideways glance. But today was different. Today Pan needed her smile- he craved it. Today Pan reached out and grabbed her elbow, stopping Wendy in her tracks. Wendy slowly looked down, at his hand on her arm, and Pan instantly felt dirty for touching her, as if he was beneath her. But Wendy said nothing, just looked up at Pan with emotionless green eyes.

"Yes, Pan?" she inquired. Pan looked at her for a moment. There were so many things he wanted to say. _Smile for me, Darling. Smile for me, please. Give me that lovely smile of yours. _But Pan said none of that. Instead he raised an eyebrow in query.

"See you tomorrow?" he said quietly. Wendy just bit her lip, twisting out of Pan's grip and walking away, head down. Pan watched her go, fire building in his chest. How could she just ignore him? It was cruel and cold. All he wanted was to see that girl smile... and she wouldn't even look at him.

It taunted Pan. The thought of Wendy smiling rolled around in his head, making it impossible for him to sleep that night. The pain of her rejection burned in his mind, seared in his thoughts for all eternity. Oh, he would show her. He would make her smile, Pan vowed. His childish infatuation with the girl evolved into something more dangerous, a burning passion that scorched his soul. Pan's obsession with Wendy Darling mixed with anger and hate that she would not acknowledge his existence.

Pan tossed and turned on his straw mattress, unable to settle his thoughts. Wendy. That lovely smile. _She will be mine yet,_ Pan promised. _And I will make her smile. And I will never let her go_.


	2. Of Tears And Magic

**Author's Note: If you haven't noticed, I'm totally changing Pan's back-story, including everything with Wendy. However, he is still Rumple's father. Just in a different circumstance... and he doesn't have Rumple yet. That comes later. ;) So this chapter has a rather long section with just Pan, but don't worry! There are definitely some Darling Pan moments later on.**

Chapter 1- Of Tears And Magic

Peter Pan was eighteen years old now. Or at least he would be tomorrow. For two years his dreams had festered inside him, rotting his insides until his heart was as black as coal. Of course, he looked the same on the outside. Sandy hair, green-blue eyes, and that devious grin that made the girls of the village swoon. But he paid them no mind; he cared nothing for them. There was only one girl he wanted, and she was the one girl who didn't want him. No longer a little boy with innocent wishes, Pan had found a new way to make his dreams come true.

Peter Pan had found a new way to coax a smile out of his Darling.

Every night he dreamed of the most wondrous place. It was called Neverland. In his dreams, it was a lush tropical island and he could do anything he wished, even fly! But even better... in his dreams, Wendy was always there, smiling.

So Pan had a new plan.

Pan carefully laid down the scrap of metal he had been working with, casting a furtive glance at the blacksmith, who was fast asleep in a rickety chair after downing an entire bottle of rum. It seemed to Pan that now his entire life was spent working in front of the hot fire, forging weapons and other such metalwork. It was dull, exhausting work, and Pan despised it. He was meant to be free and do as he pleased, but his lazy excuse of a father gave him no choice in the matter. If Pan refused to work, as he had done once, his father would beat him until his skin was caked with blood, calling him a insolent pig and much worse names. Sometimes Pan suspected that his father blamed him for the death of his wife, Pan's mother, who had died giving birth to Pan.

It wasn't the beatings that bothered Pan so much- after all, he was used to pain, being the son of a poor father. Pan had suffered through starvation, frostbite, and even whippings. He was hardened against pain, and the suffering of others didn't even touch him. Pan simply didn't see why people were bothered by it so much; to him, pain was simply a part of life.

No, what bothered him was his pride. When he walked through the village covered in bruises, it hurt his pride more than anything. The wounds were the mark of a failure. And Peter Pan simply did not fail. The worst part, though, was Wendy. When Pan was injured, she stared at him more than the others, her mouth hanging open slightly. He hated being weak in front of Wendy. He needed to prove to her that he truly was not beaten by anyone or anything. That there was no escaping Peter Pan.

Shoving the thoughts of his cursed father aside, Pan grinned at the sight of the snoring blacksmith. The man was usually drunk by mid-afternoon, and then Pan could sneak out, which he frequently did. Hissing in disgust at the horrid stench of alcohol, Pan stalked past the drunken blacksmith and out the door of the shop, fastening a cloak around his shoulders as he left.

Rather than heading down the hill towards the village, Pan turned and began to ascend the hill, climbing to the very peak of it. It was so large it was very nearly a mountain, albeit a thickly forested one. The trek took Pan a good two hours of tramping through thick thorns and the occasional shallow creek before he finally reached the top.

Pan stood at the top of the hill for a moment, catching his breath and steeling his nerves. There was only one reason anyone ever climbed this hill, and it was to see the Sorceress. She lived in the ancient stone building at the top of this hill, which was called Dead Man's Peak. It was a miserable old place, and some of the gray stones that made up the wall were broken, others missing entirely. A mass of green ivy covered the Northern side of the hovel, swaying ominously in the cold wind that swirled through the foliage.

No one knew the Sorceress's real name. According to the legends, she was an cold, bitter woman, older than time itself. Some said she was a fallen angel who had been cast down from the heavens when she attempted to bring back human souls from the dead. Pan wasn't sure if he believed any of those tall tales, but he was certain that her magic could help him with his blond-haired, green-eyed problem named Wendy Darling.

As his rapid breathing settled back to an even pace, Pan strode confidently, almost arrogantly, to the sagging wooden door of the cottage. Rather than knock, he opened the door and stepped inside without breaking pace, only pausing to look around when he was inside the hovel.

It was dark and dirty, completely empty save for rows of shelves clustered with strange objects. Pan walked up to one of the shelves curiously, peering at the items. There was some sort of dried herb, an empty glass bowl that shivered with silver light, a wooden rod carved with runes, and what appeared to be a human skull. It was positively fascinating to Pan. He picked up the skull, examining it carefully. Was this what a human's head looked like on the inside? How very odd.

Pan was still fingering the skull when a sudden gust of wind swept through the one-room hut, slamming the door shut. Turning calmly, still holding the skull in one hand, Pan raised an eyebrow at the door that had mysteriously closed. As he watched, a figure materialized in front of the door, staring at him coldly with crossed arms and a displeased scowl.

She wasn't an old woman, as Pan had suspected. No, she looked perhaps ten years older than Pan, maybe even less, still a young woman. She wore strange mottled gray-green clothes with a hood that hid her face from view. Pan couldn't see anything of her except for her hands, which hung from her long green sleeves, and her narrow chin, which was just visible from under the hood of her cloak. In fact, the girl seemed a bit ridiculous and pretentious, as if she were dressing up as an evil sorceress for a holiday like Hallow's Eve*.

"Leave," the woman said in a cold, harsh tone that didn't match her youthful voice. Pan just chuckled.

"But I just got here," he protested. "No, I think I'll stay."

"Don't be insolent with me, child," she replied, icy anger stirring in her voice.

"Child?" Pan scoffed. "You're barely older than I am."

"Well," she said, throwing back her hood. "I'm older than I look." The woman was startlingly beautiful, but in a seamless, natural way. She had pale blond hair, dirty blond, insignificant compared to Wendy's honey-blond, but her gray eyes were piercing, as if she were looking into Pan's soul.

"Who are you?" Pan demanded.

"No, child," the woman chided. "If there are to be any questions, I will be the one asking them. After all, you are here seeking my help, Peter Pan."

"Very well," Pan replied nonchalantly as he tossed the skull into the air and caught it lightly, seemingly not bothered by the fact that she already knew his name. "Quite an interesting collection you have here."

"What's interesting is that you take pleasure in it," the woman replied.

"Why is that?" Pan asked, finally setting the skull back on its proper shelf.

"Most people find it... disturbing," she answered. Snapping her fingers, the sorceress made a table appear out of gray smoke along with two simple chairs. Pan grinned devilishly at her as he took a seat.

"Well, perhaps I'm already a disturbing boy," Pan countered, casually resting his arms in the table. The woman took her seat more slowly, her gaze never leaving his.

"That you are," she remarked. "And what an interesting future you are destined to have..."

"That's why I'm here," Pan said seriously. "My future. There is a place I need to go... it's called-"

"Neverland," she finished. "I know. And you want that girl to come with you."

"Wendy," Pan murmured, his eyes softening for a moment as his thoughts drifted to the girl. "Yes. She will come with me to Neverland. Will you help me?"

"The question is not whether I will help you, but if you should be asking for my help," the sorceress replied. "Wendy would never travel to Neverland voluntarily, would she?"

"No," Pan growled. "But I'll make her."

"You want her to love you," the woman mused. "But will this really help?" Pan shot to his feet, drawing his dagger from his belt and pointing it at the woman vindictively.

"She _will_ love me," Pan snarled. "Now give me what I came here for. I need a way to get to this other realm."

"Put your weapon away, boy, and I will tell you what must be done," the sorceress said calmly, eyes like silver coins. Reluctantly, Pan stepped back, sheathing his knife and sitting down crossly in his chair.

"Get on with it, then," he spat. Smiling serenely, the lady held out her right palm and waved her other hand over it. As she murmured the words to a spell, a clear, crystalline bean appeared in her palm.

"A magic bean," she said. "It is the only way to travel between realms, originally discovered by the fairies. Use it well, Peter Pan. And be warned: there is darkness in your future." Pan snatched the bean from her, grinning nastily.

"Oh, I know there is darkness in my future," he replied. "I'm rather looking forward to it." Now that Pan had what he had came here for, he stepped towards the door, pausing to look back at the woman.

"Who are you?" he asked for the second time since their meeting. The woman pursed her lips irately, but Pan just smirked at her.

"Oh, come on, dear," he coaxed. "We've already conducted our business transaction. What harm could telling me your name possibly bring?"

"Tinkerbell," she said emotionlessly. Pan nodded briskly.

"I will remember you, Tinkerbell, and that you warned me of darkness in my future. We shall see each other again, I think," Pan said in satisfaction.

Then he slipped out the door, ready to put his plan into action.

xxx

Wendy stood in her garden, leaning against a tree as she stared at the ground. Cold, clean tears sprinkled her cheeks like dewdrops, resting lightly on her skin. Tilting her head back, Wendy stared up at the stars. This was the first annual anniversary of her brother John's death. She felt as though someone were plunging a knife into her heart and twisting the blade spitefully, but it made her feel slightly better to think that each of the stars up in the night sky was a soul. Her brother was up there, she like to believe, among the stars and shining more brightly then he ever had in life.

Of course, Wendy hadn't let herself cry during the day. Not in front of her parents. They had suffered enough pain over the death of their son without her adding to their misery. But now, at night when no one was watching, Wendy let the tears fall down her face, sparkling briefly in the air as they fell to the earth.

"Why are you crying?" said a voice from behind the tree she was leaning against. Gasping in surprise, Wendy spun around, hurriedly wiping away her tears. She bit her lip nervously when she saw that it was Peter Pan. Wendy knew there was no reason to be frightened of him. He was just a boy, after all, even if he was five years older than she.

"Oh, I wasn't crying," Wendy said quickly, giving him a hasty smile.

"Yes, you were," Pan replied, amused, his eyes glinting at her. "You're an agonizingly bad liar, Wendy Darling."

"Lying isn't something I would want to skilled at," she remarked innocently. "But I truly wasn't crying, Pan."

"Call me Peter," he said, studying her face. Wendy shook her head.

"Everyone calls you Pan," she said blithely, giggling timidly.

"I want you to call me Peter," he said intently. An awkward silence descended upon the two, and Wendy avoided his heated gaze by staring down at her shoes. This conversation had gone on far too long for Wendy's liking. She nodded a farewell to Pan.

"Well, I have to be getting home now. It's getting rather late. Goodbye, Pan," she said politely. But as she walked past, he grabbed her wrist. Wendy looked at him, trying to hide the mounting panic in her eyes.

"Let go of me, Pan," she said anxiously.

"Peter," he corrected, his grip on her wrist growing painfully tight.

"Pan, let go!" Wendy cried. "You're hurting me."

"My name is Peter," he insisted.

"Fine," Wendy whispered, looking away and hoping he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. "Let go of me, Peter."

"That's all I wanted to hear," Pan said softly, He let go of her wrist gently, removing his fingers one by one. Wendy wanted to run away more than anything, but she sensed that something was the matter; something in Pan's voice made her linger, looking up at him in confusion.

"There's something wrong, isn't there?" Wendy said sympathetically. "That's why you're acting this way. Something's bothering you."

"You're crying again," was Pan's only answer.

"What does it matter?" Wendy asked, puzzled.

"But I don't want you to cry," Pan replied, his voice quiet as if so much honesty was exhausting him. "Why don't you smile for me, Darling?"

"What?" Wendy asked, scared and bewildered. "I think it's best if I go, Pa- I mean, Peter." She walked away quickly, her head down, clutching her cloak tightly around her.

"But there's a place I can show you where you will never cry," Pan called after her. Wendy just shook her head and kept walking, shutting out his words. None of it made any sense to her. Why was Pan so adamant that she call him Peter? Why was he so determined that she not cry?

"Hey!" Pan yelled, running to catch up with her. He leapt in front of her, blocking her path, an angry look on his face. "Don't ignore me, Wendy," he said.

"Just leave me alone," Wendy said desperately, pushing past him. This boy was insane. His mood swings, his obsessions that made no sense... he scared her.

"Leave you alone... I don't think so..." Pan muttered to himself, standing still for a moment as he took in her words. Then he unfroze, stepping in her way and stopping her from walking away yet again.

"Jus come with me, and all your troubles will fade away," he promised earnestly.

"You're scaring me," Wendy told him with a tremor in her voice.

"Oh, no," Pan breathed, reaching out towards her. Wendy stiffened as he brushed her cheek gently with his hand, caressing her softly before curling his fingers around her jaw possessively. His grip was too tight, and Wendy felt his fingers pressing painfully into her skin."I don't want to scare you, Wendy. Just smile for me. Can you do that?"

"No," Wendy told him, her voice shaking, not daring to move. "I can't." Snarling in fury, Pan snatched his hand back as if she had bitten him. The sudden movement jerked Wendy's head to the side, and she stumbled back a step, whimpering slightly. Pan reached into the pocket of his cloak, drawing out a small glowing object, He cast it onto the ground, and Wendy jumped back in fright when that strange thing exploded with strange green light, swirling ominously in a glowing whirlpool.

"Don't be afraid, now," Pan commanded, grabbing onto her hand and weaving their fingers together tightly despite her efforts to break away.

"To Neverland!" Pan yelled excitedly, his eyes shining and his hair blowing crazily in the strange gusts emanating from the glowing whirlpool. Still clutching Wendy's hand, Pan leapt directly into the center of the whirlpool, dragging the poor girl along with him. As he pulled her into the unknown, Wendy cast a last glance up at the star-strewn sky, praying frantically for help. But no help came, and the two children vanished from the night without a trace.

That was the last time Wendy ever saw her home in the Enchanted Forest.

**Author's Note: So did you like it? Hate it? Somewhere in between? Please leave a review. I always appreciate constructive criticism so long as it isn't downright mean. Also, big shout out to my wonderful guest reviewer, Lucy. **

***Halloween in the medieval world was called Hallow's Eve. **


	3. Tell Me You Love Me

**Author's Note: Thank you to my fantastic reviewer, Dreamer-Girl96, and of course my guest reviewers. Again, this is a mostly dark story... including this chapter... Also, I'm expanding from my original idea, so this story will be more than just three chapters and the prologue now. Read and REVIEW! **

Chapter 2- Tell Me You Love Me

Falling, falling, falling. That was all Wendy could feel. The air rushing past her, chilling her ears, and the tangy taste of salt thick on her tongue. It was actually lovely, the air as smooth and heavy as silk and sweet like honey.

But lovely though it was, it was still a fall. And falling always ended up with someone crashing down. Tonight, that someone was Wendy Darling. Her hair tangled with the wind in floating tendrils, golden wheat waving in a gust of wind. Then came the crash. Rolling, rocking pain that hit Wendy head-on, sending her sprawling agonizingly across the beach and skidding across the coarse sand. She coughed painfully into the ground as her legs twisted the wrong way and her arms caught beneath her, bent like twigs under the weight of the sky that pushed her down to the earth.

Wendy just laid there, too shocked to even move. What had happened? Where was she? How could she possibly be on some mysterious beach after falling out of the sky though a glowing whirlpool in the ground of her village? It was complete and utter madness. Yet here she was.

Choking back tears, Wendy clambered to her feet, looking around the desolate beach. There was nothing here but the gray sand and dead-looking water. And beyond that the tree line, the edge of a forest darker than Wendy had ever seen... nothing in any realm could compel Wendy to enter the Dark Forest.

"Hello?" she called out hesitantly, her voice small and uncertain, even more quiet than the apathetic lap of the waves against the shore. Nothing in this new world cared about Wendy, and the island itself seemed to be attacking her, finding the cracks in her protective shell, finding the holes in her heart and filling them with poison. Once again sitting down by the shoreline, Wendy hugged her knees to her chest, resting her chin in her knees as she stared hopelessly across the flat gray plain of water that was the sea.

She had no idea where she was. All Wendy wanted was to go home. And the glowing whirlpool, what had that been? And where was Peter Pan? Questions spun through her mind like thread on a spinning wheel, weaving themselves into new nightmares for Wendy to suffer through. In Neverland, time never flowed as it should. Though to Wendy it seemed as though hours had passed as she sat by the ocean, to Pan it was mere moments between when he arrived in Neverland and when he spoke to Wendy Darling again.

Pan sighed thoughtfully, watching his Wendy from the edge of the Dark Forest. Nothing she said or did made sense to him. Why would she be so infuriatingly polite to Pan, yet reject him at every turn? Why would she glance at him sideways when she thought he wasn't looking, but swiftly turn away as soon as he returned her gaze? It was maddening. Finally, sensing that Wendy would not stir from the waterside if she was not prompted, Pan stepped out from the shadows, walking cautiously down the beach. As he sat on the cold sand a few feet from Wendy, Pan looked at her warily. He had no idea how she might react to being in Neverland, but the weather gave him a clue. Neverland's weather adjusted to the mind of its inhabitants. That was why the Dark Forest was so very dark... the shadows that lurked in its trees were the same demons that plagued Pan's mind. Even now, even when he was merely worried about his Darling, he could feel the darkness crawling under his skin, the raging fire that shamelessly burnt his heart to ashes. So when the weather was this lifeless and dreary, Pan knew that Wendy was far from fine.

Wendy did not even spare Pan a glance. It was as if they were in separate worlds, isolated from each other by impenetrable walls. She stared straight ahead, out onto the bleak water, searching the waves for someone to rescue her. There was no one. After all, this was Pan's kingdom, and he had no intention of letting anyone, not even Wendy herself, steal his Darling away.

"You'll have to speak to me sometime," Pan said finally, forcing himself to keep anger out of his tone. This was Wendy, he reminded himself. He had to be gentle for her, or at least he had to try. Wendy didn't reply, but her jaw clenched tightly, and Pan thought he saw her fingers trembling even as she clasped them together. She bowed her head, and Pan supposed she was praying or crying. Quite possibly both praying and crying, her bittersweet tears mixing effortlessly with her quickly perishing hopes and dreams.

"Wendy," Pan said, more intently this time. When she still refused to reply, he slid closer to her, reaching out slowly, as if towards a frightened animal. Pan brushed her arm gently, trailing his fingers from her shoulder to her elbow in a comforting gesture. Wendy sucked in a sharp breath at his touch, frantically yanking her arm away from Pan.

"Don't touch me," she murmured, tears bubbling at the edges of her words.

"Why, Wendy?" Pan asked angrily, her rejection as stinging as a slap in the face. "I know the truth. I can see it in your eyes. You love me." Wendy hesitated, and for a moment Pan believed she was going to deny it. But she just continued to stare out at the horizon, at last letting tears seep from her eyes.

"Perhaps," Wendy whispered, summoning her courage. "Perhaps I did love you, once. But I loved the boy you were back then. That sweet, innocent boy. And Pan... you are not that boy anymore. You've changed, and not for the better." That was it. Pan couldn't take any more of this. Lunging sideways, Pan shoved Wendy backwards, pinning her shoulders to the ground in a swift, decisive motion. Wendy shrieked as Pan shoved her down, then abruptly fell silent as the breath was slammed out of her lungs. Pan stared down at her cruelly, hovering just above her. Leaning forward so his face was mere inches from hers, Pan moved one hand from her shoulder, shifting to rest his forearm gently on her throat. Wendy gasped for air, struggling to get away from Pan and his crazed mood swings, his meaningless rage that bordered on insanity. But, of course, poor Wendy Darling didn't have a chance against Peter Pan. He just chuckled at her futile resistance, inching closer until his lips brushed her ear softly. Wendy went absolutely still, but Pan could feel her trembling beneath him.

"Wendy, tell me you love me," Pan coaxed.

"But I don't!" Wendy protested. Pan growled, pressing just a bit harder on her throat with his arm.

"That's not the right answer," he whispered. "Why don't you try again?"

"This is pathetic!" Wendy cried, finally finding the courage in herself to stand up to Pan. "You are so desperate for love, any love at all, that you feel the need to threaten me! Well, let me tell _you_ something, Peter Pan. Threatening me will not make me love you. This- this- _darkness_ is exactly what makes me certain that I could never love you!" Much to her surprise, Pan's weight vanished instantly at her words. He sprang backwards as if he had burned himself on hot coals, staring down at his hands in horror. What had come over him? Why was he acting like a monster? With these hands, he had hurt his Darling- choked her till she could barely breathe. But he couldn't have hurt his Darling. How could he do such a thing?

"I'm sorry, Wendy," Pan murmured, finally letting his hands drop to his sides. He returned his gaze to Wendy, but this time his eyes were pleading with her emerald eyes. "I don't... I'm not sure... I am so sorry. Please, can you forgive me?" Wendy hesitated, pushing herself up from the sand into a sitting position. Though she didn't notice, her hand crept up to her throat, where an ugly red pressure mark from where Pan's forearm had been still lingered.

"I... I'm not sure," Wendy answered carefully, watching Pan's face for any sign of the insane rages he was flying into more and more often. Closing his eyes briefly, Pan inhaled a deep breath, willing his anger to subside. He wanted to be furious that the only girl in all the realms who he loved would not forgive him, but Pan forced himself to hold back his rage. For her sake. For Wendy. He could not hurt her more than he already had.

"All right, Wendy," Pan agreed quietly. "All I ask is that you try." Wendy gave him a small, tentative smile, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Where are we?" Wendy asked nervously, looking around the beach.

"Neverland!" Pan answered, pouncing immediately on the change in subject, sweeping his arms wide in a grand gesture that encompassed the entire island.

"I don't know of a place called Neverland in the Enchanted Forest..." Wendy said in confusion. Pan laughed openly at her, and a fleeting expression of hurt crossed Wendy's face.

"That's because we're not in the Enchanted Forest," he snickered. "Neverland is its own realm. A better realm."

"Oh," Wendy replied in a small voice. "Why is it so gloomy here? Even the air seems sad..."

"Neverland's weather reflects the mood of its occupants," Pan explained, shooting her an amused look. Wendy bit her lip, looking away.

"Oh," she repeated. "It's me. The clouds... that's my doing."

"Don't be sad, Wendy," Pan said cheerfully, stepping closer. Sliding to stand beside her, he slipped an arm around her waist, pointing up at the sky with his other hand. Wendy stiffened as he touched her, but soon relaxed despite herself. Somehow, this was an entirely different Peter Pan than the one she had been threatened by mere moments ago. This Peter was gentle and cheerful, if not always kind. "Look at the sky, Wendy," Pan said softly. "Now... you don't want it to be dull and gray, do you?"

"No," she answered timidly. "It's awfully melancholy like this."

"Right," Pan agreed. "So... just think to yourself."

"Think what to myself?" Wendy asked, puzzled.

"Think... about happy things," Pan struggled for the right words to explain. "In Neverland, dreams come true if you believe. So just... think lovely thoughts."

"Lovely thoughts," Wendy echoed. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, clenching her fists as she concentrated. Pan held his breath, searching for a change, any change at all, in the monotonous gray clouds above. Then, just as Pan heard a small gasp escape from Wendy's lips, a small patch of blue sky appeared in the clouds, sunbeams cascading gently from the opening and sparkling on the water, turning the dead gray sea a lovely shade of aquamarine.

"Look," Pan said smugly. Wendy opened her eyes slowly, her mouth falling open as she saw the sunlight, eyes shining with excitement.

"That's not possible," she murmured, half to herself.

"In Neverland, anything is possible," Pan answered easily. "What do you say we enjoy the sunshine?" This sort of brightness sounded so false to him. this wasn't Pan. Being so... so... _happy_ felt alien to him. But he would do it for Wendy.

"That sounds wonderful, Peter," Wendy gave him a brilliant smile. And that smile... it reminded Pan of just how much he loved her. So much he thought his heart would burn with the fire of it. This fire inside him that burned whenever he was near Wendy... he loved it. He lived for the fire. Only after they started walking together on the beach did Pan realize that Wendy had called him Peter. Not Pan, just Peter. As if he were a little boy again. The boy Wendy had talked about, the one she said she might have loved once.

And it was surprisingly nice. Just being there, on the beach, in the sunshine. As Wendy grew more cheerful, the clouds grew thinner, breaking up into thin feathers until there was nothing left of the clouds at all, just blue sky and hot sun. But nothing could last, nothing so carefree could last long in Pan's kingdom. Wendy turned to Pan, a hopeful expression on her face.

"Pan?" she asked hesitantly.

"Peter," he reminded her sharply. Wendy took a shuddering breath and nodded.

"Peter," she echoed. "Neverland is amazing... this is amazing... but I want to go home."

"Home?" Pan growled. Shivering at his sudden fury, Wendy took a step backwards, avoiding Pan's gaze. "This is your home," Pan told her, his eyes suddenly dark and cold.

"But... what about my family?" Wendy wondered, her voice rising in desperation.

"I can be your family," Pan answered. His voice was fierce, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes. Hope, perhaps?

"Real family," Wendy said softly, still backing away. "A mother and father."

"Real," Pan repeated. "Then what is this to you- just a game?"

"No!" Wendy exclaimed in horror. "This is real! I just meant-"

"Oh, I know what you meant, Darling," Pan said, shadows rippling across his face. Wendy saw the darkness fall over him, and suddenly realized she had been backing up away from Pan, straight into the arms of the Dark Forest. Staring around at the trees with bent trunks and twisted branches, Wendy noticed that Pan had vanished only when she turned back to face him. He was just... gone. As if he had never existed in the first place.

"Pan?" Wendy called out fearfully. Then she froze. Because she could feel cold breath on the back of her neck. Even as she started forward, a pair of restraining arms snaked around her waist, binding her tightly to the person behind her. Who was... of course... Peter Pan himself.

"You say now that I'm your family," Pan murmured, tilting his head so his lips brushed her neck tauntingly. "But moments ago you said that you needed to leave here, to get back to your family. So which is it, Wendy? Which story is a lie?"

"G-g-get away," Wendy stammered, tugging at his arms, straining to loosen his grip. It was like trying to move a statue. Pan just laughed darkly at her efforts.

"Unless they're both lies," he continued, this time resting his chin on top of her head. "And you never really belonged anywhere."

"I belong in the Enchanted Forest," Wendy insisted, but her voice was weak. Pan vanished, but she could feel his presence among the dark trees, sense his eyes still on her. And she could hear his laugh as he teleported from shadow to shadow, always just too quick for her to see, always hiding where she couldn't see. Wendy turned blindly this way and that, trying desperately to keep up with his fleeting movements. Just as she turned one way, Wendy would feel him brush her hand lightly from behind her, but by the time she whipped around he was already gone. It was a sort of torment, a terrible, twisted guessing game that she could not possibly win. But Peter Pan loved guessing games.

Wendy kept turning and half-turning, twisting her head sideways, enduring the light touches that Pan gave her as he went. But then it grew worse... and it was more than light touches. When Pan passed, he would kick at her legs, or swat at her side so hard she gasped at the pain. Finally, after immeasurable minutes of this dreadful game, Pan shoved her over with a heavy push, a blow that left her lying curled up in the dirt, crying as quietly as she could into her filthy palms.

"Oh... does my little Darling feel lost?" Pan spat teasingly. She could hear his boots, crunching on pine needles as he walked towards her, but Wendy refused to look at him. That is, until Pan grabbed her hair, yanking her harshly to her knees, forcing her head back so her neck was arced like a bridge, dangerously exposed. Pan bared his teeth at her in a feral imitation of a smile.

"You... lied," Wendy gasped.

"What do you mean, Darling?" Pan grinned demonically. "Do tell."

"You said you loved me," Wendy said feebly. With a hiss of disgust, Pan threw her to the ground, watching with disdain as she crumpled into the dirt.

"Oh, I do love you," Pan crouched down and stroking her hair gently. "I love you more than anything in all the realms. And I think you should know... that little boy I used to be? You killed him, dear Wendy. Every time you refused to look at me, or talk to me, you destroyed that innocent boy a little bit more. So all this darkness, Darling... this is what you have turned me into." Pan grabbed Wendy's collar, pulling her up to his height in one swift motion. Then he captured her chin between his fingers, looking her steadily in the eyes and forcing her to do the same.

"This darkness is what you have made me," Pan said contemplatively. "I hope you're happy." Then he wrapped his other hand behind her head, pulling Wendy towards him, forcing his lips on hers with so much fire that Wendy tried to pull away, to free herself. But there was no escape. He knotted his fingers in her hair, tilting his head sideways to deepen the kiss, even as Wendy let out a small gasp of protest. Pan wanted his Darling and she would be his. And that when Peter Pan swore to himself that Wendy would never leave him- that she would never leave Neverland. And if she tried to... why, he would just have to make sure she could never try again. Wendy Darling would never leave the side of Peter Pan.


End file.
